CHAPTER SIX
I T WAS ALL very well to promise news and load up with homing pigeons to release at various stages on the journey—should other birds on the mountain be willing to leave them alone, but it was another issue altogether to try and write cramped little messages that were in any way meaningful.
Tomas was a man of very few words. He’d had more as a boy, but his trust in others had waned with Claudia’s disappearance and been shattered when her father, the King, had refused to barter for her return. This new world with Casimir in charge was kinder, and the politics progressive, but Tomas still struggled to trust others—even his apprentices, who had proven themselves capable many times over. Giving him a barony and even more people to oversee just meant more work for him until he learned how to delegate.
Maybe he should write about that.
Today I thought about how to find staff for a manor house. And whether I seriously need to know what tableware to use for any given situation. Is this why I need two wives?
He couldn’t finish a message there. Could he?
Mt. Saer: three golden eagle pairs, all plus eggs. On to Mt. Raeschi.
That would do. No need to overthink it, or to mention just how often he thought of Claudia’s softness, her fierce strength, or the warm cradle of her body. Of course, there was always the slim chance the pigeon might not find its way home, but if it did his team had instructions to make sure the Princess Royal received the message.
A week later, something appeared in the sky that looked like no bird he’d ever seen. Something that startled his horses and made his falcons flap their wings in alarm. A drone. A drone, flying royal ribbons—it hovered in front of his face. This was a travesty. Gross misuse of airspace. Falcon fakery of the highest order. Maybe he’d club it to bits.
‘Good morning, Master Falconer. Nice bushy beard you’ve got growing there.’ Claudia’s words rang out loud and clear.
‘Why is this mechanical thing tracking me?’
‘Well, I could hardly send a homing pigeon to you, now, could I? That’s a one-way trip. Whereas this communication method...once the satellite picked up your coordinates, all I had to do was feed them into the program and hope for a sunny day. Marvellous, isn’t it? Solar-powered. It’s a military prototype.’
‘I loathe it.’
‘Hence the scowl, yes, I see. I was rather hoping you’d be impressed by my ingenuity.’
‘The fact that he couldn’t see her irritated him mightily.
‘So, to answer your questions about the troubles inherent in having too many wives—I predict many, many troubles, too many to count. I don’t recommend it.’
‘You’re not sitting in a room full of generals, are you? Because now would be a good time to tell me that.’ He put his finger up against what he thought was the camera lens.
‘Stop messing with my tech,’ she ordered. ‘Don’t make me zap you. And there’s no one else in the room with me. I’m the only one who can see and hear you.’
‘That you know of,’ he muttered darkly and kept his finger right where it was. There was nothing wrong with a little paranoia.
‘You’re going to need Lillis & Co pattern number PT12CBQ, white ribbed bone china, times twelve, plus banquet dishware. RWBee stainless steel cutlery plus full banquet mix additions for a table of eighteen. Veni glassware—crystalline with silver, design number CS32, and no one wants to skimp on glassware so you’ll need the full set, meaning twenty-four of everything they can think of.’
‘When you say “going to need...” Am I? Am I really? What if I’ve decided to be a no-frills baron with simple tastes?’
‘I’ve sent you a list to look at when you return. You do intend to return to civilisation at some point?’
‘Yes.’ The drone rose into the air, dislodging his finger as it began to slowly circle him. ‘That’s cheating.’
‘So, this is your camp.’
The drone stopped to hover over his tent and small campfire where three falcons perched unhooded—two of them with their bellies full of rabbit entrails, the third hungry and ready for flight. A pair of pigeons sat caged, awaiting release, and his three horses had been pegged out on a sweet grazing patch.
But had he sensed disapproval in her words rather than curiosity?
‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘Needs more people. No one has your back.’
‘I can protect myself.’ He had enough hardware hidden on his person to stop single predators cold and a pump shotgun in the tent to defend against pack wolves. His birds and horses were more than capable of letting him know if he should be concerned by anything nearby. ‘I’m not without survival skills.’
‘That’s so sexy.’
‘I really hope no one’s listening to you right now.’
‘That I find you sexy isn’t news. Find me someone of our acquaintance who doesn’t know I’m hunting you and I’ll show you a unicorn. Do you believe in unicorns, Tomas?’ She sounded slightly wistful.
‘I stay up here long enough, I start believing all sorts of things are possible,’ he admitted gruffly. ‘Although being tracked by a stolen military drone wasn’t one of them.’
‘Have you been thinking about us?’
‘A lot.’
‘I like honesty in a man. Also decisiveness. Are you ready to have dinner with me yet?’
‘I thought we’d already established this as a possibility.’
‘Hmm.’ In no world would he ever mistake that little hum of hers as full agreement. ‘Care to make it a certainty? When will you be back?’
‘End of the month, maybe.’ But he wasn’t making promises. ‘Depends what kind of reception I get in Aergoveny, and whether I think it’s a good idea to interview for household staff and apprentices.’
‘I like the way you’re thinking.’
All this time on the mountain had at least clarified his dislike of having decisions made about his future from on high.
‘I don’t like being led, coaxed, cajoled, steamrolled, overruled—it’s just the way I’m built. Your willingness to think you know what’s good for me is a problem. It’s not what I want in a lover, a partner or even a casual companion.’ He wished he could see her face. Anything was better than the noise of the drone and Claudia’s complete silence. ‘I respect you and admire you. You’re a powerful, influential individual who lobbies hard and gets results. But the very strengths that make you so effective in your brother’s court are the same qualities that give me pause when I think about forming an us . We both like to be in charge.’
‘I can...see how that might be a problem,’ she said finally. ‘I think, though—within the parameters of a sexual or romantic relationship, or both—that I wouldn’t always need or want to be the one in control. It would be a relief not to be.’
Her answer floored him more thoroughly than the sudden appearance of a flying elephant would have.
‘You might find the real me not to your liking,’ she continued. ‘But don’t assume you know how I’ll be if we enter a relationship. The Princess Royal you’re basing your assessment on is a carefully crafted political weapon. There’s more to me. And less. And I’m sorry I misunderstood your pigeon message. I took it as an invitation to engage. I didn’t realise your next step would be to say sorry, not interested, but I’m not without ears. Message received.’
The drone rose.
‘Wait!’
The drone hovered.
‘I may have spent too much time with my own thoughts of late,’ he admitted carefully. ‘I still don’t quite grasp what you want from me.’
‘Same thing I’ve always wanted. A chance to know you properly, without artifice, titles or any other expectations getting in the way.’ The little machine whirred and hummed. ‘You said you needed a chance to think about it. If you’ve thought about it and don’t want to take that chance, say so and I’ll leave you to get on with your life. I can be told things I don’t want to hear. I won’t make your life difficult upon your return, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
He hadn’t been worried about that at all.
‘I don’t even have to be there.’
‘Claudia, stop. Can we start this conversation again? This time without your push and my defensive indecision. I’ll start.’ He felt such a fool, talking to a machine, but he’d dug his own hole when it came to communicating with this forthright, challenging woman and it was up to him to find a way out of it. ‘Would you like to have dinner with me when I get to Aergoveny? Either somewhere in the village if there’s a tavern or restaurant or at my manor house if it’s privacy you prefer.’
‘There’s a tavern,’ she said. ‘We could meet there and keep plans fluid. The only thing I will ask from you now is a date and time. My calendar fills up fast.’
‘August the fourth at six p.m.’
‘A full moon,’ she said after a moment. ‘A blue moon, in fact.’
He knew it. But then, it was his business to know the wax and wane of those things that affected the creatures in his care. ‘Is that a problem?’
‘Of course not. Makes for an interesting night. Your apprentices are getting used to me dropping in on them.’
‘How’s the little peregrine with the twisted toes?’
‘She’s with me now. The others were picking on her.’
‘You imprinted her?’
‘I took her with me when I visited a school group the other day and have yet to return her into general care. She’s so sweet. There was a young girl there with twisted feet. Serendipity, but it started a discussion on limitations and potential and set me to thinking. What are your thoughts on putting together a travelling show for schools featuring little peregrine hatchling Suly and various other injured birds that the apprentices tell me can’t be released and are permanently in your care?’
‘I’ll consider it, but only if you stop stealing my birds.’ He probably shouldn’t be smiling so hard. ‘I start my new apprentices on those birds.’
‘You take one new apprentice a year, Tomas.’
‘And the years add up!’ He currently had four. ‘And I’m considering adding more.’
‘I do hope you include girls in those interviews.’
‘If they come, I consider them.’
‘If you invite them, they will come.’
‘Why does my brain hurt every time we talk?’
‘It’s expanding with possibilities.’
‘No, I think it’s you messing with me.’ He knew it was.
The drone flew higher. ‘You’re smiling again.’
‘I wish I could see your smile.’ The words flew out before he could call them back. ‘You sound insufferably smug.’
‘I’ll see you next blue moon. Don’t be late because I will be there.’
‘Can I shoot the drone now?’ Because he was really, really itching to.
‘You realise you could use one of these to get around all your golden eagle mating sites in an afternoon? You should get one.’
He withdrew his Ruger and took aim. Why on this glorious earth would he want to do that? ‘I hate progress.’
It only took one shot.
Claudia had a stomach bug. A three-day wouldn’t-go-away stomach bug that saw her lose the previous night’s meal before breakfast each morning and made her feel like a marionette going through the motions the rest of the day. She’d tried keeping her distance from others lest they catch the bug too, but this morning Ana and Sophia had brought a breakfast tray to her room and sat with her while she sipped at the thin chicken broth in a porcelain cup and pushed dry toast soldiers around a pretty fluted plate.
‘Why are you here? You’ll catch it too,’ Claudia protested for at least the tenth time.
Ana’s smile was just that little bit too knowing, and Claudia knew just what she was thinking. ‘I’m not what you think I am. I took a test.’
‘A blood test?’
Well, no. She’d peed on a stick and heaved a giant sigh of relief when the result had come up negative. As it should have, because she’d had an injection against becoming pregnant some three...possibly four...months ago. She’d been well and truly covered when she and Tomas had temporarily lost their minds and joined bodies in the map room.
‘It’s impossible.’
‘Been there, done that.’ Ana smiled gently and reached for her cup of tea. ‘Meet my daughter.’
‘Hi,’ said Sophia with a grin.
‘I can’t be that right now.’ She couldn’t even say the word—just thinking it was enough to make panic bloom. Tomas was still getting used to the idea of doing couple things in public, let alone aligning future goals. A future together—that she took great pleasure embellishing, in the privacy of her own mind—was in no way a sure thing. They hadn’t even had their first date yet!
The thought of pressuring him into a relationship because she was pregnant only made her more nauseous.
She set the teacup down with a clatter and pushed the tray to the bottom of her bed, where Sophia sat watching with the innocent curiosity of childhood. Put a photo of Claudia at seven and Sophia at seven side by side and they could be mistaken for the same child. It was how Cas had known instantly that Sophia was his. He’d stopped at nothing—even kidnap—to bring Sophia under his roof so he could protect her and her mother, Ana. He’d been driven by fear and the need to protect them, and guilt too, for leaving Ana with no way to contact him. Claudia couldn’t imagine her brother’s emotions when he’d first set eyes on his daughter. He’d once said, over too many drinks, that he’d never felt more blessed and afraid in equal measure.
Watching her brother hold so tightly to Ana and Sophia in that revelatory press conference had sealed the deal when it came to Claudia returning to Byzenmaach after their father’s demise. Not only would her return cement Casimir’s claim on Sophia, he needed someone to help him make the most of the olive branch he’d publicly held out to the people of the north.
Claudia had real power now and changes were coming, and she could be proud of her role in bringing peace to her country. But with that role came certain expectations. Being unmarried, pregnant and unwilling to name the father would give her political opposition way too many clubs to beat her with.
‘I can’t be,’ she repeated thinly. ‘I have bigger responsibilities.’ She deliberately avoided her niece’s golden gaze in case longing for a child of her own flooded through her. ‘Cas would—’
‘Understand,’ said Ana firmly.
Would he? He’d warned her to take it slow where Tomas was concerned, but had she listened to his most excellent advice? No.
She couldn’t even begin to wrap her mind around what Tomas might think. Or say. Or do, at this lack of anything even resembling a controlled courtship and emotionally steady way forward.
No.
Just no.
Ana removed the breakfast tray from the bed and set it on the table by the window. She pulled the curtains aside, her actions befitting a maid rather than the Queen Consort. ‘I’m here to support you.’
It was a strong position to take for someone who—a year ago—had been a single working mother living an ordinary life. Or maybe that experience was why Ana was here. She knew Claudia would need allies if she was...
Should she be...
Carrying.
‘And what of Byzenmaach’s broader population? Would they support an unmarried pregnant princess? I think not.’ Claudia knew she sounded snappy. Maybe it came of being half scared out of her mind.
‘You’re their Iron Princess. You’re indestructible,’ Ana countered, turning back towards the bed. ‘They’ll get used to it.’
‘And then there’s T—the father.’ Last but emphatically not least. They’d never discussed children. They’d barely discussed dinner.
‘Yes.’ Ana’s sympathetic gaze was almost too much to bear.
‘He’s not one to be trapped.’ Understatement. ‘He’ll think I did it deliberately.’
‘Maybe. Or he might trust that you wouldn’t deliberately do such a thing.’
In her experience, trust was something that had to be earned.
‘I let him think I was dead.’
‘Due to circumstances beyond your control.’
Claudia liked this compassionate, clever woman who kept Cas grounded and worked so hard to be the figurehead her brother and this country needed. Even if her confidence in Claudia’s ability to cultivate trust was misplaced.
‘I pushed him out of his comfort zone.’
‘He is rather rigidly self-contained. Probably do him good.’
‘You don’t even know who I’m talking about.’
Ana smirked and arched an elegant brow. Okay, she absolutely did.
‘Of course, if you’re not expecting, it won’t matter what I know,’ Ana said. ‘Might be just a stomach bug. Shall I send the doctor up once she’s finished with us?’
It wasn’t the worst idea ever put forward, now, was it?
‘Yes,’ Claudia managed belatedly. ‘Please. Let’s put that fantasy to rest.’